Field of Daisies
by AnyaFaie
Summary: She had no reason to accept the problem she fought for far too long. She refused to realize being 'unhealthily thin' was her own inner conflict ... that was until Edward Cullen waltzed in Boomers Bookstore, radiating testosterone and placidity. He flips her world around in ways she would have never expected, with bronze curls and all.


Disclaimer: This fic could be triggering for those who have had past experiences with a sort of ED. Rated M for language, and graphic adult content. Children are not advised to read further.

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><p>Chapter I<p>

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**Bella**

_Damn this shit over-priced scale._

Shifting my weight backwards, I retreated from the cold metal of the weighing object, bare feet landing on cooler bathroom tiles. I dared not look into the available mirror as I walked towards my bedroom, the bed remaining inside calling out to me. Disappointment, disgust, dread, agony, sadness. All these emotions had invaded my calm and quiet mind as soon as I had seen those three digits calculated onto the tiny rectangular screen before me.

_102_

The thought of having gained instead of losing makes me want to shame the despicable human body that my spirit occupies. I sighed deeply, finally reaching the charcoal sheets and horrible excuses for pillows. One leg swung up and over onto the creaky mattress, the other limb following after. Soon I was back into my previous position. Lying in bed. Staying here was the only way I pretty much kept my small sliver of sanity. As if there was any to begin with.

Hell, at least I wasn't in a looney bin. Wish I could say the same for Renee, or as I should address her, my _mother_. Twelve razor blade cuts, a minor case of schizophrenia, and uncontrollable head twitching later, Renee was wheeled away before my ten year old eyes which were wide with innocence and fright at the time. I never did blame Renee for going a little crazy on me at such a young age. But, I did blame Charlie, he was the one who had abandoned me, abandoned _us_.

It's been twelve years and I haven't contacted my father not once because I just 'felt like it'. If I did ever get in contact with Charlie Swan, it was because I needed help paying Renee's 'looney bin fees' on that specific month. If I could have the choice of never being born, I think at this point I might have taken god up on his offer.

_Grrrr …._

Hmm, what a pleasant sound. Music to my ears. Nothing better than the sound of my body eating away at the pesky cells that enjoy clinging to my thighs and stomach. My special 'buddies' that never seem to want to leave. I couldn't help but crack a small smile at the tiny dull pain of an empty abdomen. I kind of saw my body as a never ending frat party with free booze and all the cocaine you desire. No matter how many times the party is announced 'over', the people slash my pesky little cell buddies never seize to stop partying and invite more people who invite their friends from the college a few miles away who in return invite their own friends.

I personally see it as a never ending cycle, and a torturous cycle it is. No matter how thin my thighs _seem, _or how many heads I turn, I'll never be as lovely as I desire.

And it scares me.

It scares me to the point that I really can't speak about it.

As if I would really talk about my non-existent problem to anyone else but Gertie, my blue eyed Sphynx diva of a cat. I swear, she's got more sass than Frank N. Furter from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The quiet patter of summer rain spots the glass of my apartment window. At 12:00 AM, it's raining in the large city of New York, the city that refuses to sleep despite drastic weather conditions, and what am I doing? Laying down in unwashed sheets that reek of laziness, wearing nothing but mismatching undergarments that I've worn for the past two days, and thinking of the vanilla dipped cone that, might I add had seemed like a good idea yesterday, I confided in. I guess some of it had lingered in my system while the rest had been flushed down the toilet bowl two hours later after eating the deliciously wicked specimen. Praise the almighty corner store toothbrush.

Opening my closed eyes, I focused on the green alarm clock that stood short on my bedside table.

12:03 AM

It was going to be 1 sooner or later. Sadly, I had work today down at the public library. It was a little ol' dusty building that had dozens of rows of dusty books with dusty people and dusty air. Did I forget to mention the dusty décor? The place was kind of secluded, and maybe that's why I liked it so much. As if we, Boomers Bookstore, could ever compete with the oh-so luxurious bookstore that had opened up two blocks down. Hartman's Books N' Bagels. People mostly go for the overpriced cream stuffed bagels instead of the literature.

Boomers Bookstore paid the rent, therefore I had absolutely no complaints about working there at all. Using the sorry lack of muscles in my stomach, I sat up and heaved myself out of bed. Goosebumps immediately rising on my exposed skin from the loss of warmth that the sheets had provided for a short period of time until I decided to get up and get ready.

Shower. Drink water. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Drink water. Get on scale. Drink more water. Ignore the cravings. Drink even more water. Get Dressed. Again, gulp down that fucking water. Water was my friend, my true friend besides Gertie. I loved water and all of its clear, 0 calorie, goodness. It was the only luxury I allowed myself to have. Eating isn't a necessity for me. Of course I eat, everyone has to eat sometime. I eat only when it's necessary, for example, if I'm starting to see two Gerties instead of one. A single salting cracker or two usually helps put my marbles back in order.

Deciding to leave on an empty stomach, I slipped my size 7 feet into worn out grey toms. Grey. I really liked grey. It seemed to calm me every time I was in an unstable mood. Just looking at my four grey walls could help prevent the Cheetos binge I crave every now and then. For the past three years, there has been a bag of Cheetos just sitting unopened in my cupboard. The bag had been there even before I had moved into my apartment building. The more humorous side of me wondered if the contents inside were old and elderly. _Oh, as if they're human Bella. Get a grip on yourself, Jesus._

An image of a cheese sprinkled, distorted chip holding a walker invaded my mind as I grabbed my keys along with my shoulder bag and headed out the door.

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><p>Hoped you like the very first chapter! Don't worry, i know this one was quite short, i promise they will increase in length. Stay tuned for Chapter 2 coming soon! Please review :)<p> 


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